My favorite professors were the ones who’d set me up a space heater before I arrived. Even in the early fall months, just as semesters got underway, goose bumps would sprout along my outer thighs and upper arms while I stood there on the platform, naked. The List Art Building, a large rectangular structure on the east side of campus, didn’t have much insulation with its semi-industrial design and bare-bones classrooms. When I was scheduled for a gig, I’d arrive a few minutes before class, introduce myself to the professor, learn the lesson plan, fold my clothes into a neat
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